


Kitchen Magic

by InsaneJuliann



Series: Eddie Diaz Week 2020 [3]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, This week is inspiring the fluff in me apparently, references to some stuff from Eddie Begins, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJuliann/pseuds/InsaneJuliann
Summary: Day 3: Eddie y su AbuelaAbuela doesn't visit often. When she does, Eddie's not allowed to go visit with his friends - but he doesn't mind too much. Abuela lets him help her in the kitchen when she makes delicious things to eat and she tells him stories. It's nice.
Relationships: Eddie Diaz & Isabel Diaz
Series: Eddie Diaz Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789495
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	Kitchen Magic

Eddie didn’t get to see his abuela very often, since she lived all the way in California and they lived in Texas. The last time had been because abuelo had died, and they’d all gone to Los Angeles for the funeral.

This time, Abuela was visiting them in Texas. It wasn’t even a holiday, but the middle of summer break. Eddie had been spending a lot of time at his friends’ houses, cause some of them had pools in the backyard and it was super fun to swim in them all day. But he wasn’t allowed to visit with his friends while Abuela was visiting. His mom had been mad when he asked.

He didn’t mind too much, he guessed. Abuela liked to tell him stories, about her parents, about abuelo, about Eddie’s dad when he was Eddie’s age. Eddie liked the stories. Abuela was really good at telling them, and he’d told her so before. She’d gotten all shy about it, so he didn’t say it again, afraid she’d stop.

She spent a lot of time in the kitchen, cooking food or making goodies. Sometimes she was showing Mom how to cook stuff, and sometimes she was by herself, and sometimes she argued with Dad about if she should be cooking for them or not cause she was a guest.

Today, she was trying to show Eddie had to make something, but Eddie wasn’t really that interested. Cooking and even baking didn’t seem any fun, except for when he got to taste it all as it was made. It was a lot of time and sometimes it was hard to remember what to do, and all the stuff for doing it was the wrong size for kids in Eddie’s opinion. Cooking was for adults, not kids like him.

He tried telling Abuela that, but she just laughed at him. So he stood there and tried to help, but mostly he was listening as she told him about the time his dad and Abuelo had almost burned down the kitchen.

She didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t a lot of help. She sighed, “Edmundo” at him, but she was smiling and she kissed the top of his head as she took over mixing the stuff in the big bowl. All her movements were sure and looked so easy, and it was like magic how she could put all that different stuff together and turn it into something else, and then into something really yummy.

Abuela didn’t scold him for sneaking some batter to taste like Mom did. She even handed him the spoon to lick, which Mom wouldn’t let him do cause of the eggs or something. He told her that and she muttered something under her breath. He ignored it, licking the spoon carefully so he wouldn't miss anything while she carefully spread the batter out in the pan with a different spoon, more flat, so it was even.

“You will have to marry someone who can feed you,” Abuela teased him when he went to put the spoon in the sink. She leaned over, tapping him on the nose. “Or else you will waste away to nothing at all.”

Eddie scrunched his nose. “Abuela,” he complained. “I don’t wanna marry anyone.”

“So you say now. Give it ten or so years.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Girls are boring anyway. I’d rather hang out with Gabe and Ivan.”

“Your friends?”

“Yeah. We were in the same class last year. I was gonna go over to Ivan’s yesterday, since it was his sister’s birthday and his mom said he could also have some friends over, but Mom said I couldn’t.”

Abuela eyed him a bit, humming.

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Not that I’m not happy you’re visiting, Abuela.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” she laughed. “I’m old and not as fun as your friends, it’s alright.” She gave him a sly kind of look. “But they can’t make you delicious desserts, now can they?”

Grinning, Eddie shook his head. He followed after her as she went to put the pan in the oven. “No one makes stuff as good as you.” He glanced around, then whispered, “Not even Mom. You're like magic."

Abuela winked. “Our secret.” She tapped his nose again.

Eddie mimed zipping his lips shut and locking them.

~*~*~

Eddie sighed and wrapped his hands around the cup of coffee Abuela set firmly in front of him.

"If you won't sleep, then make yourself useful and chop this." She dropped a knife and cutting board next to him, walked off, and returned with some baking chocolate bars.

He took a deep drink of the coffee before setting it aside and getting to work. She watched him for a moment, critical, before giving an approving nod and moving to the counter to continue whatever baking magic she always managed. She came back after a few minutes, scooping up most of what he'd already chopped up, then came and took the rest. Eddie ran the end of a finger along the blade of the knife, smearing off the chocolate shavings and melted bits. He stuck his finger in his mouth, watching Abuela move around seemingly as easily as she ever had.

"You're sure you don't mind?" he asked.

She gave him a look over her shoulder, the kind that as a kid would have made him fess up to any misdoing. "I offered. Do you think I would have if I minded?"

He shrugged, looking down at his coffee. It offered no answers as to how to reply to that - that yes, maybe she would have. Eddie had thought since his parents had offered, they wouldn't mind, but as he'd learned, that wasn't the case. They were so disappointed in him and his need for their help that they had thought he wasn't any good for Chris. He could still hear his mom's words echoing in his ears sometimes when it was late and too quiet.

Abuela grabbed his shoulder, startling him. She was frowning, but she didn't look upset, exactly.

Sad, Eddie supposed.

"Edmundo," she said gently. "I do not mind watching Christopher while you are working. You are my grandson, and he is your son, and you are doing as much as you can. Let me help."

He swallowed. His throat was thick. "You're sure?"

She sighed, smiled (definitely sadly), and patted his shoulder before she leaned in and kissed the top of his head. "Very sure," she said firmly. "Maybe I'll have better luck teaching him than I did you at his age."

Eddie grinned. "Maybe." Chris would enjoy helping, at the very least, probably.

She hummed, giving the pot on the stove a stir before turning down the heat and grabbing her own cup of coffee. She sat with him, patted his wrist, and said, "Tell me about this new job of yours."

It was far more of a positive response than Eddie had gotten from his parents about firefighting. Eddie settled back in his chair, let the familiarity and comfort of Abuela and the delicious smells of something baking settle him, and started talking.


End file.
